


the taste you[r lips] allow

by rxcrcfllptrs



Series: Teen Crafted AU [5]
Category: Skydom, Team Crafted
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, NSFW, Teen Crafted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:11:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxcrcfllptrs/pseuds/rxcrcfllptrs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sky thinks too much. Even during sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the taste you[r lips] allow

**Author's Note:**

> First I-am-actually-writing-the-sex smut fic, so don't expect it to be that good. Unbeta'd, and enjoy.

It's amazing how many times Sky goes to place he doesn't want to go to, but goes anyway out of love (or, more accurately, the need to impress his father). That, and because Tyler - the only person in the entire family, probably, who likes going to these kinds of things - is sick with the flu. Or so he says, the elder Aurum child thinks with a roll of his eyes. _Someone definitely snuck out yesterday._

So here he is now, sporting a bow tie that's only just about to choke him, in a silver mask he can barely see out of, in the corner to keep from stomping on some bureaucrat's child's precious feet. He doesn't want to fucking dance and he doesn't care if that doesn't make him your friend, thank you very fucking much.

He honestly, _honestly_ doesn't know why he's so crabby right now. He has done this sort of shit a good few more times than neither his dad nor Tyler can recall, but there's just something that feels... _off._ Different. Either there's something - _or someone,_ something deep in the recesses of his head thinks - that's going to change... or he needs to go to the bathroom. Those two feelings coincided a lot, and he dearly hopes he just needs to run to the bathroom this time. He can't deal with bullshit in school and he most definitely doesn't want to deal with the bullshit here as well.

"Ah well," he exhales, knowing that the music was loud enough - louder even - that no one would hear or take notice of him just waiting in the edges of the party. He takes a swig of the spiked punch and walks as soberly as he can to the fringes of the room. "Might as well have some fun, masks were made for a reason," he mutters to himself, adjusting the butter-coloured cufflinks the Aurum family was so notable for.

He walks with his hand on the wall, not giving in to the effects of what could just be placebo. If everyone believes that they can be drunk, then that's their problem. The last house party he attended ended with the cops letting him go because one of their relatives worked for his father's company, and he's not going to get lucky twice.

It's not an uncommon sight, unlikely pairs with masks askew making out in the shadowy parts of the grand ballroom. He barely acknowledges their appearance with disgust because he's been caught in that position more than a few times he's comfortable with. _Never leave the hormonal kids in a room, parents who are probably gambling or making business deals in another room_ , he thinks. Now that the topic's come up, he can't even remember whose house this was. It didn't really matter, but he always leaves these places with unusual memories, might as well have something to call it by than just 'the place where I got head from a pretty brunet'.

But he does like the scandalised look Jason gets, so maybe he'll conveniently forget the location once the information passes by.

His consciousness returns to the real world when his scanning eyes spot a familiar blond, Brice, and he nods his direction. Sky isn't quite sure if it is Brice, but the Australian accent is prominent and, well, Brice is very loud when he's drunk - _or was it Kynan? Doesn't matter._ The blond blinks out of existence when he bumps into another and his vision slides into focus. _I can't be that drunk already, Notch-dammit._

"Get out of my way," he mutters, shoving the stranger none-too-forcefully into some direction that wasn't the wall. Don't need more lawsuits against- his train of thought is interrupted by hands catching him by the wrists and pushing him up against the wall.

Only the smallest speck of orange light filters in the mask's eyeholes, the rest blocked by an anonymous face whose neon green mask does nothing to light up his face. "What'd you say to me, punk?" the breath ghosts over his nose. _Stone cold sober_. "The Marons' parties are infamous for having the spike punched after nine o' clock," he can feel the anonymous' hand brush off the curls that have fallen on his face. "What's someone like you still here after dark?"

"The same reason why daddy still thinks you have to be trapped in a ballroom with a countless, nameless others for the rest of the night," Sky appreciates a good verbal sparring, he hasn't had one in a while. "Troublemaker."

He can feel his assaulter grin. "Could say the same for you. Mind taking a peek under that mask?" Sky closes his eyes when he feels his mask being tugged upwards, willing the strength to resist the grip. It wasn't nearly enough for the iron grip, but his mask doesn't come off completely.

"No dice," he says with a smirk. "It wouldn't be fair if you knew who I was, and you were the one who pushed me up the wall in the first place," he can feel the mask being settled back on his face.

"Fair enough," Sky's eyes flutter back open to see hazel, before the haze of neon green reduces the colour to a black. "I guess I'm lucky you have the shitty masks they provided here, makes it fair for the both of us."

A unique scent passes over his nose now, less the breath of a stranger and more the scent of strong perfume, one he'd be glad to be rid off. Sky doesn't know what he's doing (he can blame it on the alcohol much, much later) but he surges up and kisses the stranger close-mouthed - for the moment.

"I don't know about you," he breaks the kiss a moment. "But I think we can get to what we want much quicker, ne?" The stranger loosens his grip and Sky's hands fall to his side,  but quickly make their way under the stranger's blazer, into thin hips and warm skin under the shirt. Somewhere darker, he thinks if he’s leaving tendrils of fire blazing, ready to burn this person right down to the ground.

"Is there anything I can call you?" The stranger breaks off this time. "I'm getting a little tired of referring to you as 'Random Guy' in my head all the time," the chuckle is raspy and makes Sky want him just a little bit more.

There's a moment of deliberation where the stranger's hands start making their way from Sky's neck to his hair and tugging roughly, making him moan just so. "Henry," his eyes flutter close when lips move more forward and mouthing shapes on his neck. "And- _ngghhh_ , who might... you be?" he struggles to breathe for a moment when he feels a palm on his crotch, now they were both well-aware of his arousal.

Vibrations on his neck come from another chuckle and a low rumble of “Anthony” and he’s ready to move this up higher when Sky opens his mouth to a choked moan, the mix of pain and pleasure already getting to him when a particularly vicious bite on his collarbone is suddenly soothed by the lapping of a gentle mouth and he doesn’t want to be seen like this - not in public, at least.

Sky pulls roughly, looking into pupils blown - not much different from his - and appreciates the whine that comes from the sudden separation. “Know your way around this place?” he asks not very elegantly, heaving between words and he really, really wants to be touched right now. Anthony needs to hurry the fuck up or he’ll be coming into his own palm.

It’s a blur of avoiding adults in unkempt suits and masks askew and messed up hair, but all that matters is that they’re on a bed and _thank Notch I didn’t forget this time_ when he gets pushed down on the bed with such a force that his head might’ve rattled a bit in the process. Well, he doesn’t mind being dominated anyway.

His head is distracted by that really fucking talented mouth as it leaves more traces of contact in its wake, but still feeling the quick and deft hands unzipping his fly and seeing the nearly embarrassing hard-on he has that moment. “Jesus,” he hears Anthony breathe out, and Sky smirks a little, doing the same for his partner, amused to see that he’d gone commando for this particular stint, and it made it easier for him to get Anthony to melt in his hands.

He doesn’t know when this became a game of ‘who gets to make who come first’, but he doesn’t really mind when he hears the delicious moans come tumbling from the stranger’s mouth and he’s trying to stop his own from giving himself away. “You fucker,” he hears Anthony say, and it makes his smirk deepen.

“Hey now,” he says, temporarily halting the stroking to the high-pitched whines of the receiver. “Has it ever occurred to you that you have- ah, issues?” he asks, feeling the rough material tug at his legs as his pants are shucked forcefully off him. Hands slap his away from the leaking penis and he settles for getting the rest of his partner’s clothes off him. He honestly doesn’t know if he wants to take off their masks, but he supposes there’s a catch to every one night stand.

“Don’t we all?” Anthony murmurs, spreading Sky’s legs to get the lubricated finger into the hole. He doesn’t realise how hot it is in the room when the coolness enters him and he momentarily forgets his own name, focusing only on the sensation of someone dominating him, and it’s not a bad feeling.

To steady himself, Sky puts his hands on Anthony’s back, warm skin upon warm skin not enough to distract him as another finger plunges in. He hisses both in pain and delight, so ready for it, but not really, not one bit.  “Just get on- _fuck_ , get on with it, will you?”

He hears the strained laughter. “You could stand to wait a little,” and then he feels it enter, making his eyes go out of focus for a minutes before refocusing and looking up at the ceiling, mouth already open and nails clawing for more,more. “Better?”

Sky barely chokes out a “go” before Anthony starts thrusting into him, slow and unsure as he gets familiar, the rhythm building up faster and faster. But he isn’t going to be outdone in this, oh no, when Sky comes forward and latches on to the open mouth with fervour, tongues clashing as the rhythm slows down again to a final thrust that sends him off the edge.

He blacks out for a moment, coming to on a bed that isn’t his, to a partner he doesn’t know, in a house that might not allow their sort of activity. The sensation makes his head spin, as he’s looking into a face that reeks of arrogance and the wrong sort of afterglow in the case of a one night stand. Sky bets the guy hasn’t even come yet.

“Aren’t you gonna finish yourself off?” he asks, heaving with a lazy smile flicking the corners of his mouth. “Kinda… impolite of you,” he can feel himself being manhandled back into position, body well-spent, when Anthony pulls out until only the head is in his hole, and then thrusts a few more times before coming inside him. The fullness makes him feel full and content, a feeling he hasn’t had in a long… long while.

Anthony withdraws and collapses beside him, eyelids fluttering shut when his head hits the pillow. Sky takes the moment of weakness to observe, whilst his eyes aren’t protesting for rest. Sweat-slicked face, straight brunet hair, the darkness of the room makes the moonlight all the more prominent, highlighting cheekbones and pale arms and the tattoo on the curve of his palm. “Catholic,” Sky murmurs, before his eyes slide shut, exhaustion overtaking him slowly, then en masse.

* * *

Sky’s jerked awake by what looks like a long-suffering maid of the house, pulling up a duvet that he didn’t cover himself up with last night. She closes the door on him, leaving the blinding light of a lamp and a clock that says ‘3:43’ in green letters. His eyes take in the room for the first time, and spots the bathroom and the pile that is his clothes, as well as the objects inside them.

He has a text from a number designated ‘Anthony’, saying “you know what they say about kids sent to catholics schools, they never turn out catholic”.

Sky huffs out a chuckle and goes to change.

_Stay a bit longer, Sky_. He thinks of this situation, _He might just be the cool thing to happen to you._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ed Sheeran's "Give Me Love". Surprisingly good song for writing sex to. Who knew?


End file.
